


threshold of eternity

by thatwasanticlimactic



Series: sunlight and storms [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), Mentioned Ozai (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Has ADHD, Sokka (Avatar) Has Tourette's, Tourette's Syndrome, Trauma, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, because Ozai sorry, friendship is magic:), zuko does too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwasanticlimactic/pseuds/thatwasanticlimactic
Summary: “I know you have to be perfect for everyone else, and you do an amazing job, but you don’t have to do that for me.”[orfive times Azula was found on the floor by a loved one and got the love she deserved1/9 oneshots in a Found Family series where the gaang gets to heal and learn]
Relationships: Azula/Jin (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: sunlight and storms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021864
Comments: 40
Kudos: 184





	threshold of eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I'm writing a series of Found Family oneshots based on friendship lessons from My Little Pony (I'm sorry but that show is so pure and has great lessons) and this lesson SCREAMS Azula to me. These were supposed to be happy friendly oneshots but this one is kind of dark.
> 
> !!tw brief thoughts of suicide at the beginning and at the beginning of the last section!!
> 
> Enjoy:)

_“I know you have to be perfect for everyone else, and you do an_ _amazing job, but you don’t have to do that for me.”_

\----

A moment, a glimpse of life, crawling on the floor.

She often found herself on the floor, her fingers interwoven with her hair, yanking and pulling. 

And it wasn’t the room itself that hurt, that sent her spiraling. The room was comfortable, even too comfortable. Her bed was plush; she was given a pile of blankets ranging from soft to unbearably soft, two large pillows and three small ones, everything a shade of soft pink (she would not have chosen pink, but Ty Lee had brought them all as a gift during her first visit, saying something about how pink has the most soothing aura).

There was a window near her bed. She watched the sunrise every morning from there.

She supposed it wasn’t the cottage either.

After she had been released from the hospital _(her brother would not even let her walk away with dignity, he made her get healed by the Water Tribe girl)_ , she had been escorted to a small, quaint cottage in the palace gardens. She had been told it was her new home, that it had been built for her. It was a one-story structure, with a kitchen (stocked with her favorite foods), a bathroom, a study, and her bedroom.

And although she lived alone, she was always reminded of the guards who were stationed outside _(she never talked to them, they never talked to her)_.

No, it wasn’t the cottage _(it_ _was_ _the cottage)_.

It wasn’t right- perfect _(it was and she didn’t deserve any of it)_.

Azula wished she had been killed during the comet. Death would be more merciful than living in this agony. Living in the shadow of her previous life, the one she lost. Survival was a cruel reminder, and every day it struck her over and over and over again because _she failed._

Each night, she prayed to Agni to rid of her, to strike her. And every morning she woke up alive.

_(She certainly didn’t feel alive.)_

The only thing that gave Azula any form of relief was the prospect that her father would come back to her. She knew he would come for her, _he must._

So, she followed a schedule every day, just in case it was the day he returned.

It was the perfect schedule. Wake up at precisely 8 in the morning, brush her hair, make sure there isn’t a single hair out of place, eat breakfast, practice her bending stances in her study _(she couldn’t be out of practice when Father returned)_ , fix her hair, clean her cottage.

Then it got tricky. Multiple times a week, she would have some kind of visitor. Based on her observations and journaling _(she had to be prepared for anything),_ they usually came Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. But that depended on the visitor. They would arrive at noon and stay for various times.

In her journal, Azula had written down each visitor she had ever had and approximately how long they stayed. She needed to keep a record of everything so as to be prepared. Ty Lee visited quite frequently and stayed for an average of 3.2 hours, usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Zuzu visited at least once a week and stayed for an average of 1.35 hours, his most consistent day being Saturday. They visited her the most.

Uncle would come on occasion, he usually broke the schedule, visiting on Mondays or Fridays.

He would always try and get her to walk with him outside, but she knew-- _she knew_ \-- it was some sort of a trap _(she couldn’t remember the last time she had been outside, it might have been on her walk to the cottage, maybe it had been when she tried to escape a couple days in, maybe it had been when Ty Lee attempted to drag her out)_.

She didn’t like his visits. They threw her schedule off and he always tried to apologize to her or treat her like she had done nothing wrong _(which she knew was a lie-- she had done nothing wrong but he thought she did and he was trying to trick her)_.

_(She did do everything wrong, though)_

When they left, she cleaned once more. There was always something out of place, something she knew her visitor had seen. They noted it, disappointment flaring in their eyes.

It was usually then that she found herself on the floor.

And it had been months (three to be exact). Father still had yet to come.

* * *

The sun reached the highest peak in the sky Tuesday. It happened faster than she had been prepared for.

She barricaded herself in her room as soon as she heard someone speaking with the guards outside. That meant she had a visitor. But her room wasn’t clean, everything was a mess, her hair was falling out of place, and there were footsteps.

She couldn’t have anyone in her cottage when it looked this bad, and her room was the worst of it all. She could hear them coming, someone was coming and her cottage _(she)_ was a mess.

 _“GET OUT!”_ she roared as soon as her bedroom door creaked open. Her chest was heaving, something resembling a growl escaped the confines of her throat.

“ _Wah!_ ” The trespasser yelped at her words, but that only infuriated her more.

“Get out!” she repeated, her voice brittle, breaking. “Can’t you see I’m not ready yet? Get out!”

“Are you okay?” It was the boisterous voice of the peasant, of the Water Tribe scum that had corrupted her brother. He had the nerve to ask if she was okay _(was she, though?)_.

A pained scream echoed throughout the room-- uncontrollable. Azula fell to the floor, gripping at her hair and thrashing. Her chest was aching in a dull throbbing sort of way. Her scalp was prickling as she tore the hairs from her head-- the ones she had spent hours trying to tame earlier that day-- the ones that made her late la _te late late late_.

“Azula, Azula! Hey, can you come back to me?”

The cool tones of the peasant’s voice splashed against her heat, leaving only embers behind. It was as if something inside of her had switched instantly. She shot up to her feet, flattened her hair with her hands _(beneath her feet were the chunks she had ripped out)_ , and plastered a wide smile on her face.

“Why are you here?” she asked him, her voice strained.

The Water Tribe boy appeared to be taken aback by her quick change. “I, uh, Zuko asked me to come,” he said _(and as she observed him, she noticed his voice tinged with not fear, but confusion)_. “He thought it might be good for you to see some new faces.”

“It’s not,” she shot back instantly. “It’s not good, peasant. In case you couldn’t tell, I am not ready yet. I’m not surprised that you didn’t notice, though. You Water Tribe hooligans were never very astute.”

Her body soaked in the anger flashing in his eyes, breathing in the scent of cowardice and fear. He could not combat her, therefore she won _(a small voice in the back of her mind tried to remind her that there was nothing to be won)_.

“Okay, I like Zuko a lot so I’m going to be civil,” the boy said. “But, I’ll have you know that the Water Tribe-- _tribe, triiiiiiiiibe--_ is a very lovely place with lots of smart and brave people!”

Azula rolled her eyes, picking at her nail beds, uninterested. It was comical, he had gotten closer, his finger in her face. She was tempted to bite it off but she wasn’t in the mood to taste Water Tribe scum.

“Also, my name is Sokka, not peasant.”

“That’s nice,” she cooed, her eyes trained on his every movement. “You rolled your left shoulder, shifty feet, the thumb’s up was unnecessary, look at that your shoulder rolled again. Hmmm. No wonder my brother associates with you, you’re full of imperfections.”

A look of devastation was stamped upon his face, and for a second she thought he was going to cry. Instead, he took a deep breath, his eyes trained on her, blinking wildly. “Why--” his voice broke through the first word. He cleared his throat. “Why aren’t y- _yuh-yuh-yuh-you_ \- ready yet?”

She quirked a brow. “What made you think you’re worthy of an answer?”

Rather than dignifying her with a response, he scanned the room. His eyes landed upon the journal on her bed and he nodded. “Zuko, he uh, told me you like schedules?”

She snorted. “What’s it to you?”

“I really like schedules too,” he told her, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Like, when you guys were hunting us, I always had these detailed and elaborate schedules laid out for every day. I still make schedules, actually. I like having my day planned out step by step.”

Azula stiffened. The familiarity of the words struck her hard. Is he trying to pick out her weak points? Is he making up a silly story to get her to tell him valuable information?

He continued: “One time, it was about a month ago, I think, Aang and Katara and everyone were coming back to the Fire Nation to visit Zuko and I, so I made this schedule for our day so we could fit everything in and when everyone got here, they didn’t want to do anything on my schedule and I--” he paused, taking a moment to stand, a hazy look capturing his eyes. As soon as it had come, it left. “I freaked out. A lot. And then ruined the day for everyone.”

“Sounds about right.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them _(but she didn’t care if she insulted him. He deserved it. Right?)_.

“Hey, I’m just saying, it happens. Did it happen to you? Is that why you’re upset?”

Unbelievable. She supposed it had been wrong to underestimate his intelligence _(yet another thing she got wrong)_. “My room,” she mumbled without meaning to. “I need to clean my room before anyone visits.”

Sokka’s eyes softened. “I get that. You want some help?”

No comment about how her room already looked clean _(it wasn’t clean! Her blankets weren’t folded straight, the covers on her bed weren’t perfectly aligned!)_ , nothing about how foolish she was to be upset about such a trivial thing.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he slowly walked towards her bed in the way that one would approach a rabid beast. Her eyes followed him, tracking his every movement. She watched as he took hold of the top blanket and drew it back, watched as he tucked the bottom one into the pillows, watched as he… as he made her bed in the exact way it needed to be done.

“Is this right?” he asked, his voice gentle, kind, even.

It felt as if the words were caught in her throat _(yes! It’s perfect! Thank you!)_ , so she mutely nodded in response.

The boy's face lit up, his fist pumping in the air, left shoulder rolling. “What’s next? Your desk? You want to straighten your brushes? Oooh! How about alphabetizing your books?”

A cozy feeling swept through her heart, and she wanted to say _something._ The feeling terrified her.

“It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” Sokka replied. “I want to alphabetize your books, unless you want them done differently? I was thinking by author’s last name so that collections can stay together, but if you’d prefer something more pleasing to the eye, we can sort them by color?”

“Last name,” she croaked before she could stop herself.

“Last name it is!”

He strode to the bookshelf--limped was more like it--with his leg heavily encased in a cast, stopping every few seconds to rub his right heel across the floor. And she stood near her bed, posture straight _(perfect)_ , chin tilted towards the ceiling to prove her dominance.

The Water Tribe boy knelt beside the shelf, grimacing as he carefully adjusted his leg. He said nothing, just began taking the books off of the shelf one at a time.

Azula expected to be furious, she had been prepared to kick his broken leg out from underneath him as soon as his filthy peasant hands touched her books and demand that he leave her alone. But he-- _Sokka_ \-- was gentle. Each book was pulled out with care one at a time. He looked at the last name and placed it in a certain place on the floor.

The floor of her room was tile, little squares upon little squares. It was satisfying to watch as he made sure that each book was placed in line with the design on the floor. Somehow, it calmed her nerves, soothed her mind. She felt as if she could breathe again _(she hadn’t even realized she had held her breath)_.

He was on the seventh book when she moved to join him. Azula didn’t want to, really. She wanted to stand there and make sure he was doing it right, she didn’t want to let her guard down in front of this stranger _(because that’s all he was to her, a stranger, their paths only crossing when they fought on opposite sides)_. But the consistency, the alphabetizing... she desperately wanted to go through the motions as well.

Slowly, cautiously, with narrowed eyes, she knelt beside him. Sokka didn’t greet her or acknowledge that she occupied the space next to him. He just handed her the next book as he set another in its place on the floor.

They worked in silence. The amount of books she had now compared to just four months ago was not much, so together they worked swiftly and efficiently.

When finished, he asked “What next?”

So, Azula scanned her room, eyes narrowing in at the mess on her desk. She pointed, uttering, “There” ever so quietly, and together they stood.

The Water Tribe boy-- _Sokka_ \-- had trouble standing up, his face scrunched in pain as he stumbled and fell back to the floor again. And something in her stirred, some kind of pity, perhaps? Without thinking, she extended a hand towards him and pulled him to his feet.

She didn’t wait around for a thanks because she didn’t need one _(didn’t deserve one),_ simply sauntering to her desk.

For another hour they worked. After the desk was straightened, Azula swept while Sokka plucked the hairs out of her comb and changed the trash. There wasn’t much to be done, yet, there was _everything_ to be done. And he did it without complaint _(which was odd considering basically every time she had seen him previously he was always complaining about something)_.

The cleaning session ended as the two observed the room, making sure nothing had changed and that they had not missed anything. Sokka clapped his hands together, leaning against the wall _(she noted a left shoulder roll and a heel rub, the attempt at a suppressed mumble of “turtle-turtle-ducks ducks ducks!”)_.

“Well, is your schedule back on track?” he asked, a proud grin dancing across his lips.

Azula’s eyes flickered to the window, falling on the position of the sun. “Yes,” she said, striving to keep her voice flat _(she cannot sound appreciative for that leads to vulnerability)_. “Yes, that fixed my schedule.” She wanted to express her gratitude, she tried, but the words had so rarely been used it was like speaking a forgein tongue. She couldn’t say it.

“Awesome! Well, I’ll leave you to it, I guess! Bye!” He shot her one last smile before leaving.

The silence around her room weighed heavily on her mind. She trudged to her desk chair and sat down before she fell to her knees. Everything in the room appeared to be more grim without his presence. Without his ridiculous smile and annoying sounds _(they weren’t annoying)_.

Confusion rolled over her in waves. Azula hated him. He was loud, obnoxious, a being so full of imperfections it sometimes hurt to look at him _(maybe because they reminded her of her own. Or maybe it was because on some level she was worried that if he expressed his flaws too loudly someone would notice and bad things would happen bad things would happen bad things would happen)_ and logically, she should be thanking Agni that he left.

Azula gripped her hair, yanking in the edges in frustration. It hurt _(not her hair, this-this feeling she had)_. She sat, listening to the sound of nothing.

When the pain faded away _(it didn’t fade, it had morphed into the feeling of being delicately pricked by one hundred needles)_ , she untangled her fingers from her hair, snatching her journal from where it sat and flipping to her log pages.

She reached for her brush, gripping it tightly, paused for only a second before writing:

 ~~_Water Tribe Peasant_ ~~ _Sokka_

  * _Arrived at precisely noon_


  * _Visit on a Tuesday_


  * _Weak left leg, leans on his right_


  * _Stayed for approximately two hours_


  * _His left shoulder rolls, rubs his heel against the ground as he walks (has to pause when he does so), occasionally throws a thumbs up in the air with his right hand_


  *     * _I believe I remember Zuzu mentioning he had some kind of disorder that made him do that stuff_


  * _High energy_


  * _Like schedules_
  * _Does things the right way_
  * _Didn’t laugh_



She dropped the brush, throwing her head in her hands with a mighty roar. It still hurt.

* * *

When noon came a week later, Azula was ready. She sat in the armchair in her study, feet planted firmly on the floor, back straight. Her room was immaculate, everything was in its place, better yet, this is the most perfect it had been since she was forced here.

And she knew-- _she knew_ \-- today would be the day that her father would return to her. She had a good feeling. Everything had been going right since the minute she had woken up.

She flattened out her dress once more, trying to suppress the eager grin she was sure she was wearing. Father would not want to see such a face. She had to keep herself in check, had to reign in her anticipation so as not to startle him.

Today was the day, it was, surely. Agni had blessed her all day, had finally answered her prayers. She had a good feeling.

Azula perked up upon hearing the muffled sound of someone speaking to the guards outside. The unlocking of the door and turning of the knob had her biting her lip to keep her composure.

Then she screamed.

She shrieked and in a moment of anger-- of repulsive disappointment, she stood, stomping out of the study, into her bedroom _(and she was being followed! The nerve!)_. She paused at her desk, and in a feat of uncontrolled rage and swiped the contents to the floor, collapsing next to them, pounding her fists against the tile. _“NOT YOU! LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE! STOP FOLLOWING ME!”_ Her voice broke as she wailed.

It was not her father, he did not come today.

Instead it was an unfamiliar girl. Her hair was a dark brown, falling down her chest in two braids. She wore traditional rich green Earth Kingdom garbs, a sight that only infuriated Azula more.

The girl did not leave. She just stood at the door, waiting.

As Azula’s heaving breaths died down, she furiously wiped her eyes _(though there were no tears to be swept away)_. She stood, hands grasping the chair in front of her. “Who are you?” she snarled, glaring at the girl with as much fury and flame embedded in her gaze as possible.

“Hi, I’m Jin!” the girl replied, her voice cheery. She didn’t jump as Sokka had, she didn’t look away like Ty Lee or Zuko did. She stood her ground _(which was impressive since she was standing her ground against her)_. “I’m a friend of Zuko’s!”

The firebender narrowed her eyes. “Are you a therapist? I told Zuzu I did _not_ want a therapist and I demand you leave immediately!”

Jin quirked a brow. “Nope, sorry, not a therapist.”

“Then why are you here? I know all of Zuzu’s friends, there aren’t that many, and you are not one of them. The only Earth Kingdom friends he has are the blind girl and the Kyoshi Warriors.” And Azula grinned in triumph, because she had seen through Jin’s lie, had seen through her vague disguise.

But the girl laughed. “Sorry, I actually met Zuko in Ba Sing Se a while back! We were both refugees. At least a month before you and your friends took over, if I remember correctly.” There was a sort of sparkle in the girl’s eyes, an annoyingly smug sort of gleam that made Azula’s blood boil.

She did not like to be laughed at _(mocked, humiliated)_.

“Fine then, why are you here? I was expecting…” she trailed off _(but only a second! It wasn’t for more than a second! She can speak just fine, thank you very much)_. “I was expecting someone else.”

“Ah. Well, Zuko wants you to see some ot--”

“Yes, I know. I was already told, you aren’t special.”

Jin just nodded. “Okay.” Her gaze fell to the mess on the floor. “Do you want some help cleaning up?” She started towards Azula.

“No, stay back!” she growled, instinctively crouching into a defensive position over her things. “I don’t know you, why should I allow you to touch my belongings.”

She took a step back, arms raised in submission. “Okay, I won’t help you.”

Azula panted, chest heaving. Jin’s face remained expressionless. There was no look of fear in her eyes, no expression of pity. She just stood there.

Azula took her time as she put her belongings back on her desk. Everything needed to be in order _(everything needed to be perfect)_ , everything precise. There was no point in rushing, not when her visitor of the day was this Jin girl _(and not the only person she wanted to see)_.

When finished, she smiled. It was tight-lipped and barely visible, but it was there. “Finished.”

“Mm not quite.”

She sharply turned back towards Jin. “Excuse me?”

The girl only shrugged. “You pulled your hair out earlier, want me to fix it for you?”

The _nerve_ . “How dare you insinuate that _you_ , a lowly Earth Kingdom peasant, could ever hold any opinion on the looks of _my_ hair. _I_ will fix it because _I_ actually know how it’s done!” With a huff, she sat herself down at her desk, adjusting the mirror so she could clearly see her hair _(her disastrous hair, her faulty hair, her imperfect hair)_ and harshly undid her _(messy)_ topknot. She dragged the comb through the strands, the teeth digging into her scalp _(and it hurt but at least she felt something that wasn’t anger)_.

Combing her hair in front of Jin was, perhaps, one of the most undignified things she had ever done. Each and every stroke only resulted in tangling the strands even more, and after a few minutes of struggling, Azula had kicked the chair out from under herself. She rested one knee on her desk, her head so close to the mirror that she could barely see her own reflection anymore.

She knew that she should feel some form of embarrassment at her actions, screaming at her hair to prove she didn’t need Jin’s help was not the most regal thing she had ever done, but she didn’t _(sometimes she felt that she was so far gone she couldn’t feel embarrassed anymore)_.

She was falling-- falling away, so caught up in the competition against herself that she did not notice Jin approach her, did not notice her slowly ease the comb out of her hands, did not notice her bring the chair back and encourage her to sit.

She did notice when Jin gently held a chunk of her hair, brushing the comb through.

Azula froze, her eyes wide _(with fear? Anger? Change? Uncertainty?)_. She felt as if she could not move a muscle, for if she moved something bad would happen. She didn’t know what, but something bad would come from moving. Jin would get angry. Jin would yank on her hair, slit her throat with the teeth of the comb, take her family hairpiece away _(the last bit of herself she had)_.

But the Earth Kingdom girl was not aggressive as she combed, going chunk by chunk rather than Azula’s brash method of all of it at once. She tactfully brushed out the knots with such tenderness Azula felt as if she could cry _(but she couldn’t cry)_. No one had ever been this tender and careful with her.

“You can relax, if you want.” It was the first thing Jin had said since Azula had yelled at her. “You're sitting really stiff. Relax your shoulders.”

“My posture is perfect,” was her curt response.

“Never said it wasn’t perfect, Azula.”

That… that caught her off guard, she had been prepared to defend herself. Subconsciously, she complied, leaning cautiously into the touch. Jin’s hands were warm, she noted. They were strong, callused.

When Azula glanced at the mirror, she caught Jin’s face in the glass. Her gaze was focused on the bender’s hair, a sort of fond smile grazing her lips while she worked.

It was surprisingly enduring in a way that made her heart pause and wonder if this was real, really happening, or just some figment of her imagination.

But as Jin finished, placing the hairpiece back into her topknot _(her perfect topknot)_ , she couldn’t help but feel that it was real.

And she had just let someone do her hair. And they did it _right._

Jin sighed, placing the excess hairs in the trash and setting the comb back on her desk. “There, good as new.”

Again, she wanted to thank her, to thank this random Earth Kingdom girl for doing her hair and doing it _right,_ but she couldn’t. She just _couldn’t._ The words were caught in her throat. “You did it right,” she finally spluttered _(she spluttered, that was just as bad as stuttering. Jin was going to get mad at her)_.

“Glad I could do it right for you!” She paused. “I’ll be in the Fire Nation for a couple more weeks, I can come back a few more times before I leave, if you want. Next time, we could actually have a conversation or something?”

Azula mutely nodded, her eyebrows knitted together as she attempted to process what had just happened.

Jin flashed her a wide, cheery smile. “Cool! I’ll see you later then!”

As soon as she had come, Jin was gone. Azula was still sitting in her chair.

She could feel the phantom movement of Jin running her fingers through her hair. It was a soothing feeling, and it scared her.

Her journal was in reach so she stiffly grabbed it, fumbling to grasp her brush.

_Jin from the Earth Kingdom_

  * ~~_Mean_~~


  * ~~Pushy~~


  * _Visited on a Tuesday_


  * _Arrived shortly after noon, a few minutes_


  * _Stayed for approximately an hour_


  * _Tolerate_


  * _Brushed my hair_


  * _Brushed my hair correctly_


  * _~~Nice~~_



There was more she could write in her log of the visit. The thought exhausted her, though. So she closed the journal for the day.

* * *

“Good morning!”

Azula was ashamed to say that she jumped at the sound. She spun around, fists lit aflame. Before her stood the blind earthbender girl, grinning smugly.

“You’re early.”

“I don’t care.”

Azula glared. “Why are you here?”

Toph shrugged. “Zuko asked. I had nothing better to do. What do you want me to say?”

The indifference in her voice was frustrating. “Whatever. You’re still early.” The earthbender did not dignify her with a response, so she continued. “What do you want?”

“I want to go on a walk around the garden.”

“You have fun with that.”

“Yeah, _we_ will because _you’re_ coming with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Heard you haven’t been outside in months, so I figured we’d take a walk together, now come on!” sighed Toph, agitated that she had to explain herself.

“What right do you have to order me around?” she snapped back. The _audacity_ of this child _(a voice in the back of her mind tried to remind her that she was just a child too)_ to barge into her home unannounced, early even, and demand she go on a walk.

The younger girl just tilted her head. “What right do _you_ have to order me around?”

Those words shattered her entire being. Azula felt as if she were crumbling, because she _did_ have the right-- _she did she did she did_ \-- she was the princess of the Fire Nation. Toph was in _her_ home.

When Azula gave nothing in return, Toph’s smirk widened. She felt a small hand grab onto her arm, and suddenly she was being dragged outside. Despite her best efforts, she could not pull her wrist away from the child.

Toph took a deep breath once they got further into the garden, away from the guards. “Ah, there’s nothing like the smell of dirt in the morning.”

“Sure, whatever, now let go of me.” The sun felt unnaturally hot against her skin, hot in a way that it shouldn’t have. She had to blink multiple times so her eyes were adjusted to the sudden overwhelming light overhead.

Toph complied, and Azula immediately clutched her hands to her chest, rubbing the area the earthbender had been holding. A part of her was considering making a run for it and going back to her cottage, but she noticed how Toph’s feet were poised at the ready, her toes digging into the ground, one hand already moving the dirt a bit. No matter how powerful of a bender she was, she really was not in the mood to get into a fight with the younger girl _(and even if she did, she would lose. Toph was surrounded in her element, there were guards at the ready not too far away, and she had not gotten to train yet today so her forms weren’t perfect)._ "Where do you wanna go first?” she asked instead, deadpanned.

“I don’t know, what do you want to see? Any, uh, flowers or something you want to look at?” Toph scrunched her nose. “I mean, we _can_ go visit the turtleduck pond if you want?”

Azula snorted. “I’d rather not, thank you.”

“Okay then, where do you want to go?”

She was so close to making some sort of snide comment, tell the girl something about how foolish this was and demand they go back. But instead, she replied: “I don't know. I never went out much.”

“No kidding. Okay, let’s just walk then.”

Something Azula learned as she and Toph walked through the gardens was that Toph did not like small talk, nor was she any good at it _(not that she tried, but Toph didn’t try either)_. The young girl just followed silently, playing with rocks in her hands. It was… kind of nice. Usually when people came to visit, they tried to push her to talk to them, even when she didn’t want to _(she did)_ , but Toph kept her distance.

“You’re really stiff,” Toph had commented as they trudged along. “You can let loose a little bit, you know. We’re just going on a walk.”

“I know,” Azula scoffed, crossing her arms. “You’re not the first person who’s told me that.” She was being defensive-- she knew she was _(but if her posture was not perfect she would get scolded and she would bring shame and humiliation to the family name she cannot she cannot she cannot)_ , so she tried to relax her shoulder a bit. “There, you happy?”

Toph didn’t answer, instead, she asked a second question. “Okay, I gotta know. You literally live in the garden. Do you really never go outside? I mean it’s right there.”

“What’s the point?”

“I don’t know, maybe to get some fresh air and some sun for a change.”

“Well, I just don’t okay?” The ‘ _what’s the use of trying if I can’t be free?’_ stayed in her head.

As they continued walking, falling back into the comfortable silence, she noticed that the dirt was soft against her feet, squishy. It was the kind of feeling that made her want to wrinkle her nose in disgust _(but also the kind that reminded her of the very few times she and Zuko would throw dirt at each other as kids)_. Toph had dragged her out, leaving her no time to put her shoes on. There was a part of her that hated it because her feet would be dirty when she went back to her cottage, but another part of her _(the small part she had to ignore)_ felt more real _(more like a living, free person)_.

“How do you always walk around without shoes on?” The question left her mouth before she could even consider asking it.

“I can’t see if I wear shoes. Just got used to it I guess,” was the young girl’s reply.

“But doesn’t it make you feel dirty?” continued Azula, still attempting to wrap her brain around how it could be okay with always having dirty feet. Wouldn’t it make her uncomfortable? Wouldn’t she get in trouble for tracking filth into the house?

Toph shook her head. “Not really. I _am_ an earthbender after all. It makes me feel more connected with my element sometimes.”

“Is this you suggesting I light myself on fire? Because I’m not opposed.” She covered her mouth as soon as the words left. Self-deprecation was not something to be discussed, especially not in the form of a joke. She tensed, her eyes glued on Toph, waiting for her to yell at her or scold her _(though somehow she knew that Toph wouldn’t)_.

Instead, the earthbender laughed. She laughed so hard that the duo had to stop walking because Toph was bent over, clutching her stomach. It was a loud and uncontrolled sound, but it seemed genuine. Azula fought back a giggle of her own _(because she couldn’t afford to laugh)_.

Toph sighed. “You’re fun to argue with. Twinkle Toes doesn’t understand my jokes, Sparky just gets flustered, Snoozles always gets all offended, and don’t even get me started on Sugar Queen. You actually put up a fight. I can respect that.”

“Oh.” Azula was never good at taking compliments that weren’t worship or admiration. “It’s a nice change of pace to have someone argue with me,” she admitted. “Whenever I push Zuzu or Ty Lee they just stand there with a sad look on their face, they don’t even say anything back.”

Perhaps her momentary lapse of being on high-alert was a poor idea. She let her guard down for a second, had made a joke, had almost giggled. But she must have been reading the situation wrong because the younger girl punched her upper arm.

In a flash, Azula screamed, rearing back and striking Toph’s arm in return just as hard, if not harder. She barely noticed Toph’s face fall, barely noticed her seizing her arm in pain. All she could feel was the fire of betrayal burning inside of her.

Because she let her defenses down _(and it had been an accident-- an accident! She didn’t mean to, she’s smarter than that, better than that)_ and she had been manipulated and attacked, brought to shame on her own grounds. With that thought, she fell to her knees and began bashing her forehead against the ground. “ _You betrayed me, you lied!_ ” she shouted, ignoring the disgust she felt as the dirt crumpled over her, coating her hair _(her hair-- her perfect hair)_ , latching onto her eyelashes. Some of it found its way into her mouth, spitting out with every sound she made.

A pair of hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her off the ground and she thrashed-- _she thrashed_ \-- in the hold. “Let go of me! I demand you get off of me!” she cried.

“I will if you promise to stop hurting yourself!” was her reply.

But Azula couldn’t promise that, she couldn’t. Because she was weak. She was weak and pathetic and when Father returned and saw how weak she had become--

“Azula, come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just show affection that way, it was supposed to be nice or something, I don’t know.”

And Azula would have continued to ignore her if not for the change in tone. Toph’s voice, normally confident and cocky, was small, scared. The fearless earthbender was _scared._

She ceased her struggling, body feeling feeble. On some sort of level, she wilted, falling back against Toph’s chest, breathing heavily. Her throat felt heavy, dry. She could taste some disgusting sort of mix of bile and grime, she spit.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would, I don’t know, just do it back.” Toph spoke again, her voice wavering _(and it was then that she realized that this girl holding her was only twelve years old, just two years younger than her)_.

“It’s--I’m--” she panted, spitting once more. “It’s nothing. I don’t know what that was.” _(lies)_.

Toph nodded. “You wanna keep walking or--” _(and Azula ignored that fact that the earthbender knew she was lying)_.

“We can keep walking,” she replied confidently, pushing herself off of the younger girl and back onto her feet, brushing as much of the lingering dirt off of her clothes as she could manage.

“Okay.”

There was no hesitation. No ‘are you sure? Maybe we should just go back?’. She watched as Toph followed her lead. She still looked a bit shaken, and Azula felt kind of bad _(because Toph didn’t deserve that)_.

They continued the walk in mostly silence. There were a couple more rounds of sarcasm and the occasional question about life, but it was a comfortable sort of noise.

Neither girl brought up what happened earlier _(because she was ashamed, she couldn’t speak of it again)._

After they had finished their walk through the gardens, Toph walked her back to her cottage. If the guards noticed that she was a mess covered in muck, they didn’t say anything. If they had heard her screams earlier, they didn’t bring it up.

“Bye, Stiffy!” Toph called as she began to enter her cottage.

Azula wanted to argue against the name because it was ridiculous, but found her lips turning up a bit either way.

She wanted to call back, wanted to thank her, but before she had gathered the courage _(because if she learned anything today, she learned that she was weak)_ , Toph had left.

She slowly trudged back to her bedroom. The logical part of her mind was begging her to change and bathe before she did anything _(because she was disgusting)_ , nevertheless, her feet took her to her desk. She sat, grabbed her journal and flipped it open. The last data entry she had made was about her time with Jin from three days ago. Reading her name caused her stomach to flip, her mind to halt.

Much like how she had somehow missed the way Sokka’s presence filled up the space, she discovered that, for some reason, she missed the way Jin had combed her hair, missed the tenderness _(because no one had ever been that tender with her before)_. Even though Toph had left not even five minutes ago, she wished their banter could replace the burning in her brain.

_Toph_

  * _Her visit was on a Friday_


  * _She came at ten in the morning, two hours early_


  * _Stayed for approximately three hours_


  * _Blind but sees with her feet_


  * _Does not mind dirt_


  * _~~Rude~~_


  * _Made me go outside_


  * _Surprisingly the most conscious about what I feel_



She closed the journal, heart heavy with confusion. Nothing she had written-- nothing she had been writing-- made any sense.

She felt filthy _(in more ways than one)_.

* * *

Another week had passed. It brought two more visits from Jin (and they had much better than the first time), two more visits that made her feel something other than anger, other than hate. Sokka had stopped by once more just to give her some new books he had bought for her on his last shopping spree with Zuko _(when he told her he was looking for books that she would like she almost combusted)_.

Her father still had not come. She continued to clean for him, continued to stick to her schedule and do everything for him. He would come soon. She knew he would.

It was Saturday, and Azula had finished cleaning early. She knew someone was going to visit her today (the visits had been more frequent than usual lately) so she had cleaned as soon as she could (within schedule, of course).

_(And, of course, it may have helped that in her rage from last night she had made a mess of things and could not sleep until everything was spotless once more.)_

She sat in her study, reading one of her new books in her armchair, keeping an ear out for voices at her door _(because for some reason she was starting to look forward to these visits. She didn’t know why, couldn’t place her finger on it)_. When she finally did, she perked up, shifting her position, straightening her back _(there was still that small hope that it would be her father walking through the door)_.

Disappointment immediately overtook her, a disappointment that turned quickly to anger. She stood her ground, crossing her arms and leaning forward _(just a bit-- she did have the family image to uphold)_. “Look who came crawling back. What do you want?”

There was Mai, standing tall and proud _(and perfect in a way that Azula had always secretly been jealous of because her posture was more than perfect, it was immaculate)_. The stoic girl closed the door behind her and took a few small steps forward. “To talk.”

The answer infuriated her, but if she wanted to maintain her dominance and control in the situation she had to keep her cool _(she had to she had to)_. “Oh, now you want to talk?” she laughed. “Okay, well you’re three months too late to ‘talk’, I’m afraid. I believe you’re competent enough to remember where the door is, you can see yourself out.”

Mai, in fact, did not see herself out. She took a seat in the chair diagonal from Azula (it had been a gift from Uncle, as if the chair would make her want to talk to people), expressionless as always. “Azula--” she began, voice dry and bland _(and full of lies)_.

“No!” she snapped. “You had your chance to apologize, you had your chance at redemption. If Ty Lee could visit me twice a week for two months, I think you could have managed at least one day!” There it was, the fracture inside of her that held contempt and misery in regard to her relationship with Mai had been released _(a fracture she did not realize existed until now)_.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, quit it with that ‘I have to be the perfect child’ act, Mai, it’s not becoming.” She huffed, sending a chilling glare in her ex-friend’s direction.

“I wanted to come sooner.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. That must be exactly why you did just that!”

Mai blinked slowly. Once. Twice. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You could have started with an apology for betraying me.”

“I’m not sorry for that.”

The words sliced through her chest as if Mai had thrown one of her knives. Just like that, her flame had been doused. “I guess you really were telling the truth all those months ago then,” she stated, voice flat. “You value Zuko’s friendship more than mine.”

“I never said that,” Mai replied, her usual deadpanned voice a bit more insistent. “I said I loved Zuko more than I feared you. I never said I didn’t love you.”

“Then why?” Azula asked, voice melting. Her posture faltered _(and there Mai sat with her perfect form and her perfect stature like Azula never could, rubbing it in her face)_. “I have been your friend for nearly your entire life. _I_ was the one who went to get you for an adventure when you were bored. _I_ was the one who defended you and your abilities when Father and the Earth Kingdom doubted your addition to the team since you couldn’t bend. _I_ was the one who fought by your side. It was _me_. It wasn’t Zuko, it was _me_ and you chose him over me just like everyone else. Chose him when I needed you most!”

Her words were dripping, falling and falling until they decayed. The cottage was silent as Azula panted. Her body gravitated towards the floor, seeking solace in the rug surrounding her chair (the rug had been another housewarming gift from Ty Lee). The warmth of the fabric always made her feel some kind of comfort.

And she was on her knees, fingers lacing with the loose bits of fluff and fabric.

“There you go. You learned how you ruined my life,” she spat, grip tightening. “You can leave me be now.”

“Azula,” Mai said, her voice laced with a hint of desperation. “I’m not sorry for helping Zuko. I am sorry for leaving you alone.”

“I just don’t understand.”

And she didn’t. She had yet to process Mai’s betrayal, she barely even thought about it, in fact. She had suppressed it so often that it felt more like a dream to her than anything. Mai appearing out of nowhere and unannounced had broken the dam and the memories came flooding back.

“I couldn’t let Zuko die. If it had been you or Ty Lee on that gondola, I would’ve done the same.”

That lifted her spirits a bit.

“We were fighting on the wrong side of the war,” continued Mai, and when Azula looked up, she saw that the nonbender had gotten out of the chair and was kneeling beside her, far enough away to give her space but close enough to be there.

“No, we weren’t,” she whispered, fighting back the urge to cry. “We were doing what was best for the Fire Nation, for the world.”

“We weren’t, Azula.”

Azula could not remember the last time she cried. She wailed, she screamed and shrieked, she did everything but cry _(because crying was a sign of weakness)._ Yet now, in front of Mai, a couple tears delicately rolled down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, begging Agni to make her stop because she couldn’t cry _(she wasn’t allowed to cry),_ she couldn’t in front of Mai.

“It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t any of our faults. That’s how we were raised.”

“Stop it…” she demanded _(pleaded)_.

“I think I always knew we were on the wrong side but I just didn’t care enough to do anything about it,” Mai said. “Sometimes I…” she trailed off, her gravelly voice didn’t break, it didn’t crack, but it faltered. She cleared her throat. “Sometimes I wonder what would have changed if I had told you earlier.”

The words shook Azula to her core. What if her words were true? But they weren’t, they couldn’t be. Father had told her, assured her, they were in the right. Would anything had really changed?

She didn’t know who she could trust anymore.

Azula sniffed. “Careful, Mai, or I might start to think you have feelings,” she remarked, sitting a little straighter and wiping her face, pushing aside how heavy her eyes felt.

The other girl’s lips twitched. “That might not be such a bad thing anymore.”

“What, have Zuzu’s friends been rubbing off on you?” She was being defensive once more, she knew she was. Maybe she would insult Mai. At this point, she didn’t care _(she did)_.

“Yeah.”

There it was again, Mai’s short and emotionless responses. Azula had always taken pride in being rather good _(perfect)_ at reading people, but Mai was the only exception. No matter how hard she tried to understand Mai, she just couldn’t.

“I hate a lot of things,” the nonbender said when Azula did not respond. “But I don’t hate you. I never did.” Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand on top of Azula’s left one. Her touch was cool, calming.

“I don’t know if I hate you,” Azula admitted, feeling smaller and smaller with each passing moment.

“That’s okay,” shrugged Mai. “You don’t need to know yet.”

“Do you promise?” She felt like a child, but she needed to know, _she needed to know._

“Promise what?”

“That you don’t hate me, that I don’t need to know yet? I don’t know! I just need you to promise!” Her voice shook as her volume rose.

Mai looked her at her, her deep brown eyes meeting her gold. “I promise.”

They knelt there for another couple of minutes, resting and composing themselves. With shaky legs, Azula stood, gripping the arm of her chair. She lowered herself back into it and grabbed the book. “I’m going to finish reading this,” she said, hesitant. “I have more books if you want to read or whatever, I don’t care either way.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sure.”

“Books are in my room, you can take whichever you want just make sure you put it back where it was when you’re done,” she explained, pointing in the direction.

“Okay.”

She watched as Mai walked away, and a part of her wanted to follow just to make sure she didn’t steal anything or make a mess of things in her room _(she had been betrayed by Mai once before, after all)_. But Mai returned fairly quickly with her old copy of Fire Nation folk tales (she hadn’t asked for it, Zuzu had just put it in with the rest of the books).

When Mai took a seat, she said: “That’s really what you want to read?”

Mai shrugged. “Never got to read it growing up.”

Azula left it at that.

The two girls finished around the same time. Hours of silence had passed as they read. Azula felt nervous at first, wary that Mai would do _something_ as she got engrossed in her book, but Mai never did. She didn’t look up even once. So she stiffly sat in her chair, feet flat on the rug, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. Every time she glanced up at Mai, she noticed the other girl was sitting the exact same way which was assuring _(and sad)_.

“Well, did you like it?” Azula asked as they went to return the books to their proper place on the shelf.

“It was okay.”

 _She did enjoy it,_ the bender thought. “Good.”

They placed their books in their respective spots then walked back to the door. Suddenly, Azula felt self-conscious as she mentally prepared her goodbye. “Will you… will you be visiting again?” she said, voice quiet.

“If you want me to.”

“I do. I think.”

“Okay.”

As Mai turned to leave, Azula wanted to express her gratitude for the clarification she had received, for Mai simply sitting there and being close to her. She couldn’t.

Her journal log was shorter that day, but Mai would have wanted it short.

_Mai_

  * _Visited Saturday_


  * _Shortly after noon_


  * _Stayed for approximately three and a half hours_


  * _Claims that she does not hate me_


  * _I don’t know if I believe her yet_



She set her brush down then exhaled.

One coherent thought ran through her mind: _Mai says she does not hate you, therefore she does not hate you. She promised._

* * *

Azula had her good days and she had her bad days.

On her good days, she stuck to her schedule and got things done, she felt like a person again.

On her bad days, nothing got done, she tore her hair out, and begged Agni to kill her.

Today was a bad day.

She was uncertain as to how she suddenly stumbled upon the realization, but somehow when she had woken up that morning, she knew that her father was not coming back for her. He never was. While she had been wasting away in this cottage, he was somewhere else entirely and chances are she’ll never see him ever again _(or even be allowed to see him)_.

Then, she wondered if he’d even _want to see her._

The thought brought her to the brink of madness. Everything she had regained, everything she had learned and understood crumbled before her, merely ashes piling up beside her feet.

This time when she cried, it wasn’t a few silent tears.

This time, it was messy, loud, and painful.

And she fell-- _she fell._ Her body gave way, and she collapsed to the ground.

She was screaming and pulling her hair out, relishing in the pain that followed every snap as strands were disconnected. Her hair was a mess, but for once, she didn’t care. The hairpiece sat atop her head-- proud and mocking. The weight of it burned and she tore it out, flinging it across the room and flinching when it cracked down the middle.

It didn’t matter anymore. _Nothing_ in her life mattered anymore.

“Azula? _Azula!_ ”

The familiar voice of her brother broke through her sobs. Pitifully, she looked up and saw Zuko standing above her, a horrified look on his face. Panic struck her hard and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

_(He can’t see you like this he can’t see you like this NO ONE can see you like this he can’t he can’t they can’t foolish failure you’ve done everything wrong wrong wrong)_

Quickly, she forced herself to her feet, flashing Zuko a large and toothy smile. “Hello, brother,” she cooed, her voice strained. “What brings you here? It’s not Sunday.”

Zuko bit his lip, unsure.

She noticed that his hair was down, the Fire Lord hairpiece was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t wearing the traditional robes either, rather, he was in regular wear-- commoner wear.

When he said nothing still, in a bout of hurt and fear, she sneered. “Why are you wearing the clothes of a commoner?”

That seemed to knock some sense into him, and Zuko blinked. “Azula… are you okay?”

“Well that’s a silly and irrelevant question,” she scoffed, trying to hold back the wavering in her voice. “I am fine, don’t know why you asked. Did you get fired or something?”

Zuko shook his head, his shaggy, nearly shoulder length hair swaying from the momentum. “I-- no. I’m still the… I’m still the Fire Lord. That’s why I’m here, actually. Everyone is here for the first time in awhile and we’re having a picnic outside. Jin and Toph thought it would be a good idea to invite you and I did too and. Yeah. We all want you there, if you want to join us.”

“Oh, so you’re dressing down to fit in with your little group of friends?” she replied. As she spoke, she realized that she was leaning against her bed frame _(she was leaning! So simple, so ridiculous, so uncivil)_ , so she straightened, taking a couple steps away so she would not be tempted once more.

Zuko frowned at her comment. “I’m off today and I’m just having lunch with my friends,” he said. “Really, I’d like you to join if you feel up for it.”

“Do I look up for it to you?” she snarled, balling her hands into fists. “My hair is a mess, Zuzu! If I went out there like this--” she stopped speaking. Her body was trembling and she was finding it hard to stand up. “If I go out like this bad things will happen.”

“If you go out like this,” said Zuko, echoing her own words, “no one would be upset with you.”

“I highly doubt that. Imagine if you attended a meeting looking like this, visited Uncle like this. You’d be a laughing stock, you’d bring dishonor onto the family, more than you already have, that is.”

She watched Zuko close his eyes and take a deep breath, slow and long. “Azula. It’s just your hair. No one will care.”

“Father cared!” she shrieked, her morning realizations racing through her mind once more. “ _He_ cared and _he_ said that we need to keep up appearances. How would he feel if you saw you dressed like this?”

Zuko flinched, a shiver running down his spine. “He’s not here right now--”

 _“And he never will be! That’s the problem!”_ Azula was wheezing at this point, her right hand clutching her chest for dear life and her left against her head, digging her fingers into her skull. “He was the only person who ever cared about me and now he’s never coming back! He was supposed to come back for me but he never did and he never will!”

“Azula…”

“No! I’m nothing without him! What purpose do I have in my life without him? I have done everything for him-- everything he asked me to do! I lived my life to serve him and now he’s gone and he’s not coming back!” She was weak _(she was always weak)_ , her legs gave out and she fell, landing on the floor in a heap of tears and anguish.

Zuko was at her side in an instant. “You are so much more than him,” he whispered, gently placing a hand on her arm and keeping it there when she didn’t shake it off. “We never should have felt like we had to serve him. He was our father, not our master.”

Desperately she shook her head. “No,” she hiccuped _(and she was ashamed-- so ashamed)_. “It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to come back for me, I’ve become everything he hated. I’m a mess.”

An encompassing puddle of warmth began circling her skin. It took her a second to realize that Zuko was rubbing her back. Subconsciously _(she didn’t mean to it was an accident, it was unintentional)_ she leaned into the touch, against her brother.

“I became everything he didn’t want me to be, Azula,” murmured Zuko. “And I’m better because of it. He wasn’t…” he paused, struggling to speak. “He wasn’t a good father.” He said it quickly, sharply, exhaling deeply after he spoke.

“Don’t say that,” she begged _(and she begged, all dignity had vanished for she begged)_.

“I’m sorry.”

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how desperately she ordered herself not to cry for a third time that day _(three times in one day was criminal! If Father ever heard…),_ but she had lost all control the second she woke up that day. Azula thrust her face into her brother’s shoulder with such force that she almost knocked him over.

Zuko froze for a second, stiffened in a way she knew all too well. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice just lower than a whisper.

Slowly, Zuko relaxed, his body becoming slack. The hand on her arm and the hand on her back vanished, but before she could register the cold loneliness she felt at the loss, two strong, protective arms wrapped around her, keeping her close.

“Azula, hey,” he said softly. “I know-- I know you had to be perfect for everyone else, and you did an amazing job, but you don’t have to be perfect for me or anyone else anymore, okay?”

She shook her head. “I can’t face anyone like this,” she protested, her voice muffled.

“You don’t have to if you don't want to,” he assured. “If you’d rather stay here, you can. I can tell everyone you're sleeping.”

“I want to go, though,” Azula admitted. “I just-- I don’t-- I can’t--”

“Hey. No one starts out perfect, I didn’t. Sometime later this week I can tell you about how long it took Katara to like me and _how_ I got her to like me. In hindsight, it was excessive.”

She snorted. “You always were excessive.” A pause. “Why do they put up with me?"

"Because they care about you. One angry word won't drive us away."

"Do they really want me to be there?”

She felt Zuko nod against her. “They do.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

“Even Sokka?”

At that she turned her face, relishing in the redness that spread across Zuko’s face at the mention of his boyfriend. “Yes, even Sokka.” He playfully glared at her when she giggled _(she giggled she giggled she giggled that’s bad? No, good? Wait is it--)_. “Don’t be too hard on him, by the way. I can’t tell you how long I waited at the bookshop for him to find books he thought you’d like.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, everyone out there, even the ones who haven’t visited you yet, want you to be happy. It’s kind of annoying at first. And weird and… and _a lot,_ but it grows on you. And it’s nice.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Azula nodded, determined. “He’s not coming back, he’s _never_ coming back, is he?”

Zuko bit his lip once more. “No, he’s not, ‘zula. But that’s a good thing.”

“You’re sure?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Zuko took a second for himself. She could feel the gradual rise and fall of his chest. “Positive. And if you ever forget, there’s a lot of people out there who’ll remind you. Gratefully. I’m not kidding. Maybe don’t ask Katara to remind you when you’re stressed because she gets passionate about it and starts waving her arms and goes all in. It can be kind of overwhelming, but… she really cares and that’s the difference.”

She smiled softly. “Okay.” _Thank you,_ she wanted to say, She wanted to say it so badly, it was stuck to the tip of her tongue but she was so scared of the amount of vulnerability those two little words could bring. “Th--thank. Thank you.” It took her a second, it was harder than it should have been.

But she had said it.

“Always.” Her brother unraveled his arms and stood up.

Once she was standing as well, he said: “Do you, uh, do you _want_ to fix your hair before you go out? It doesn’t matter, no one will make fun of you, but you were upset about it earlier so…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck wearily.

“I-I might ask Jin if she can. Do my hair, that is.” The thought set her nerves reeling, and suddenly she was overcome with the possibility of rejection. Rejection in front of everyone. Humiliation.

“Jin, huh?” asked Zuko, raising an eyebrow. “She _did_ extend her trip here by a couple more weeks. Do you have anything to do with that?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you think she’d… do you think she would get upset if I asked her?”

Zuko shook his head, doing his best to hide the grin he was close to bearing. “Oh, I think she’ll do it.”

“In all seriousness, do you really?”

“In all seriousness, yes.”

Azula released a breath. “Okay.” She grabbed the comb from her desk holding it tightly in her right hand. “I-- Let’s just go now.”

Side by side they strode to the door, but she fell back, fearfully eyeing the opening to the outside.

And there Zuko stood, his hand extended to her, a closed-lip smile on his face. She noticed that he was standing on the threshold of her cottage. To step out of it with him would be like starting anew. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that _(she was)._ The next time she would enter her cottage, she wouldn’t be the same. Glancing around her home, she cringed. It was depressing, really. Empty. That would need to be fixed.

With a shaking arm, she grasped his hand. Together they crossed the threshold.

And there it was, everything she was leaving behind, everything she was going towards all in one place together.

Just beyond the door was a picnic. There was Mai watching Ty Lee tell a story, Katara and Aang holding each other as they laughed, Suki spreading the contents of a basket across the blanket they were sitting on, Toph and Jin listening intently to the story, and Sokka adjusting the pillow his broken leg was resting on.

Aang looked up as the duo approached. “Azula, hi!”

She faltered as everyone began expressing their own greeting, waving excitedly. She swallowed and waved back.

Zuko led her over to Sokka, and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand with his free one, tilting his head towards Jin. “Breathe, okay?” he told her and it took everything in her not to blush when Sokka winked.

Cautiously, she approached Jin. Jin had come back to visit multiple times, and each time Azula had wanted to ask if she could fix her hair again, but she was weak _(no, remember what Zuko said)_ and couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Azula, hi!” Jin smiled as the bender approached her.

“Um, hi?” She mentally facepalmed. She held her comb out, licking her lips. “I-- can you fix my hair? I don’t-- the hairpiece broke and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Jin’s gaze was gentle. “Of course! Here, sit down and I can do it for you.” Azula sat and handed her the comb. “You don’t have to be so stiff, remember?” chuckled the Earth Kingdom girl.

Azula furrowed her eyebrows, trying to loosen her posture the best that she could but it was _hard._

“If you can’t right now, that’s okay too,” mumbled Jin as she grabbed a chunk of her hair and began to run the comb through, gentle and slow.

As Jin combed her hair, she watched Sokka eagerly ask for the fire flakes. Watched Katara stick her tongue out at him, pushing the bowl in the opposite direction. And Azula hesitated, cringing in preparation for the fight she knew would happen _(she also knew deep down it wouldn’t happen)_ , wishing desperately she could protect Katara from the blow _(she was too weak)_. It never came.

She stared at Sokka quizzically. Sokka who was pouting but immediately stopped when Zuko kissed his cheek but made no move towards his sister.

“Fire flake?” Jin asked, having reached over her shoulder and grabbed the bowl with the hand not holding her hair.

“I’ve never had one before.” _(They were the food of commoners, not royals)._

“Are you kidding? I don’t even _live_ in the Fire Nation and I’ve had them! You’ve got to try this.” She handed her a piece and Azula popped it into her mouth. It was… surprisingly tasty. She must have made a face because Jin laughed and nudged the bowl towards her with her foot. “Eat up before Sokka steals them all.”

“ _HEY!_ ”

And Azula laughed, a real laugh that began in her stomach and ended in the air.

“Done!” Jin said cheerily, scooting around until she was sitting next to Azula. “I brushed it and braided it like mine! See, we’re twins!”

Azula curiously wrapped a hand around one of the braids, running her fingers over the bumps. Smiling, she flicked it and laughed once more as it flew forward and then landed back on her chest.

“Thank you.” For some reason, the words came easier to her this time.

“No problem!” replied Jin, and Azula melted at the light that shone in the Earth Kingdom girl’s eyes.

She looked back at her cottage, at the doorway. She needed to make a list, a list of things she had to change and rearrange inside before it became home.

But not right now.

She stole one last glance at the entrance, the threshold, and there it was. A moment’s glimpse of death, it smiled at her door.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed:)
> 
> thank you for reading! I'm @that-was-anticlimactic on tumblr if anyone wants to be friends or scream about Zukka or friendship!
> 
> (I couldn't help doing Sokka with TS, self-projection, who is she?)
> 
> (the title and opening and closing lines are from the song Threshold of Eternity from the musical Starry! It's a brilliant musical and a brilliant song so I suggest checking it out!)


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